Final Breath
by EmPoweredBeing
Summary: A tribute to Alan Rickman after his passing. This story pays tribute to another great man Severus Snape and his passing. Because Alan Rickman was a great man, but he was an amazing Snape


**A/N: Hello all. Remember me? I'm that author with all those fics that aren't finished yet (but will be - don't give up hope!).  
In the wake of the shock passing of our dear Alan Rickman I penned this as a way of coping with my grief, because Alan has been a favourite of mine, Spin's and my darling illesviking for practically always. And I cried when he died, just like I cried when Snape dies. So...**

 **Here is to Alan Rickman who was brilliant in everything he was ever in. He charmed and terrified and made us laugh and I think of anyone I shall miss him in this world the most.**

 **As always, my love and gratitude to Spin84 - WHO'S BACK ON FF! Go read her stuff - and my everlasting love and devotion to my darling fiance illestviking who rocks my world daily.**

-0-

Minerva McGonagall paced outside the hospital wing, her hat crumpled up on the seat where she had spent the last measure of her new freedom sitting. Leaning on each other were Harry and Hermione, new heroes of an old war. Ron and Ginny were grieving with their family in the Great Hall, lost in the pain of Fred's death, but Harry and Hermione were with the only family they had left; in the only home they had left.

"Professor?" Hermione said quietly, letting Harry stay leaning up against her shoulder. "Professor? Sit?" She gave her a flicker of a smile when Minerva finally stopped her pacing.

"Miss Granger -"

"Hermione," she corrected, tapping the chair. "For me?"

Minerva rolled her eyes and sat beside her former pupil, allowing the young lady to take her hand. She realised belatedly that Hermione's request had been in the interest of keeping her from collapsing. She had been protecting the students of Hogwarts for nearly a whole year and after fighting a battle in the beloved halls of her school, she was exhausted. Judging by the way Hermione was now squeezing her hand, the young ones were just as tired, though showing it just as stoically.

"You learnt from the best," Minerva muttered, making Hermione start.

"We did," she agreed, although Minerva was sure she had no idea what she was going on about. The thought made her smile.

Poppy Pomfrey appeared some forty-five minutes later with blood all over her robes and a sad look on her face.

"You'd better come in," she said with a barely repressed sob.

Minerva squeezed Hermione's hand and stood.

"If you would wait for a moment," she said to Hermione and Harry.

Harry looked as though he was going to argue, but Hermione nudged him and nodded. She would explain to him later, but Minerva needed a few moments with her former colleague on her own.

To apologise.

He had never looked more at peace and Minerva smiled at this, willing the tears collecting in the corners of her eyes to disappear. This was Severus.

"Minerva?"

"I'm here," she said quietly.

"How odd," he said, letting his head fall back when he was sure it was her, "that the dead should be ushered into nothingness with silence."

"You and I have never been silent," she replied, sitting on the side of his bed.

"That is," he paused, taking a rasping breath, "that is quite true. Who now will you wager with? You are taking the post are you not? Albus would have wanted it."

"I do not know what Albus would have wanted," she said with a touch of annoyance. Severus clicked his tongue.

" Funny, I never pegged you as the narcissistic type," he chuckled, though it turned into a rasping cough at the end. "He was protecting you, you stupid woman. You were the most important part of his plan I shouldn't wonder. While he was off playing God, you were here. Making sure they were safe, making sure they were growing and learning-"

She opened her mouth to say something, but it seemed he was on a roll.

"I do not mince my words woman, do not insult me so. Albus loved you as dearly as anyone. He wanted nothing of this to do with you. He simply wanted you here, doing what you do best."

"Severus,"

"Do not," he growled. "I will not have you weeping by my bedside. You are stronger than that, and I have no wish to see it."

"Fine," she said. "How much?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"How much I said, for Gryffindor to win the next three house cups."

"I _wager_ I have little to give you," he smirked. "I wager my everlasting apologies."

"Don't," she choked, swallowing a sob.

"If those blasted children had behaved, I could have controlled Alecto."

"Do you blame them?" she whispered, finally gathering her Gryffindor courage and taking his hand.

"No," he sighed. "I do not."

"I do not need your apologies Severus," Minerva said. "But you need mine."

"Do not be stupid. You are not a stupid woman Minerva. I was playing a part, one that I was used to playing and very good at by the end,"

She looked at him, really looked at him and watched a shadow of pain cross his face.

"I should have trusted you as Albus did."

"Albus held all the cards," he managed before pushing his head back on the pillow below him. "It is easy to trust when you see the workings."

She made a noncommittal noise, letting him squeeze her hand despite the pain in her arm from her injuries.

"Harry and Hermione are here. They want to see you."

"Merlin's bloody beard," he said amongst something similar to a cough, or a laugh. "That would be a cruel fate indeed to see their faces on my deathbed."

"They are quite determined."

" Merlin," he sighed. "You'd better let them, or they'll be hexing Poppy through the door. We can't let the sainted Harry Potter or that insufferable know-it-all not get their way."

She smiled and leaned over to kiss his forehead, despite his frown.

"You are a magnificent man, Severus Snape. Whatever is said about you, you have my everlasting love and gratitude."

"I have earned neither. I am a terrible human, Minerva."

"No," she said, brushing his long hair back. "You were damaged, dear one. There is a difference."

She left before he could reply and on her way to the door, she realised how right she was. He had been damaged since the beginning of his life, and the pain had never eased. Rather, it had grown exponentially: his father, James, Sirius, and Lily throughout. Then Harry. Such a stark reminder of James and yet, if you looked, of Lily as well. And Hermione too, with her brilliance and her unrelenting yearning to learn from him. Minerva thought that she must have reminded him of himself but with the love and support he was so cruelly brought up without.

"He's ready," she said quietly.

Hermione and Harry hugged before following her through the door and into the hushed halls of the infirmary. As she watched them, holding hands and walking purposefully, Minerva was reminded that this was their first war. Their first time dealing with the overwhelming emotions that one feels when coming out of the other side - either as winners or losers. She knew she would have to look out for them over the next few months. The Weasleys would close up house, despite them loving Hermione and Harry as much as she did, they were not strictly family. And if she knew Harry and Hermione like she did, she knew they would not want to intrude either.

She touched Harry's shoulder and pointed behind the last curtain on the left. They paused before entering. What they were doing was beyond brave. A little selfish too, but very brave considering their tumultuous relationship with Professor Snape over the years.

His eyes were closed when they filed in one after the other. Minerva hung back and nodded to Hermione to step forward. They needed to do this, she could see it in their eyes. She did not yet know the full story, but she planned on inviting them back to her cottage to stay for a while and she was more than sure the whole affair would eventually come out once they had time to sleep and recover.

"Professor?"

"I am not dead yet, Potter," Severus growled, rolling his eyes at Harry's face staring back at him. "No need to cower. You have me where you want me."

"Severus," Minerva cautioned gently.

"Apologies," he sighed looking back at Harry. "You played your part well Potter, Albus would have been proud."

"I think it's you he would be proud of," Harry said quietly in that way he always did. "I know I am."

"For Merlin's sake boy, don't start snivelling."

"I won't," Harry chuckled. "You're still a git."

"And you are still an arrogant little dunderhead."

Minerva was lost, but Harry held out his hand and smiled when Severus mustered the energy to take it and give it a limp shake.

"Thank you Professor Snape, sir," Harry whispered.

"Thank you Harry Potter."

Hermione stepped forward, and the two looked at each other for a moment, and something happened that Minerva didn't think Harry noticed. Hermione nodded, moving forward to press a kiss to his head. She stayed by his head and whispered something into his ear and he smiled, of all things. _Severus Snape smiled._

"Ten points from Gryffindor," he said quietly. "Minerva can give them back when you both return next year and pass your Newts."

"It's been an honour, sir," Hermione said finally. "Thank you."

"You are an insufferable witch Miss Granger, one that I think will change the world so I'm quite glad I won't be here to see it."

MInerva rolled her eyes, but was shocked that Hermione laughed and squeezed his hand.

"Thank you for seeing us, Professor."

"Minerva? Could you please take Miss Granger outside so she can ask you about staying to help rebuild the castle. She's going to be bouncing in her seat if she sits here any longer."

"Are you -"

"Yes."

"I will be back in a moment then," she said quietly. "Will you be alright?"

"Always," he said, glancing at Harry.

It was the last thing that Minerva heard Severus Snape say. The bastard had known it was time and ushered the two of them from the room as he so cleverly managed all his interactions. Harry had stayed behind, and what had happened between them was something Minerva knew would come to light eventually - though she would not hold her breath.

She was so very glad she had got to see him one last time before he died. When Harry and Hermione had come to her after the fighting had stopped and explained what had happened, she'd run immediately to the shrieking shack, finding him barely clinging to life. And then, as only Severus Snape could have, he had ushered himself into death with the same muted honour that most would argue he did not possess.

But Minerva knew he did; she had seen it, witnessed it, been a part of it. Severus Snape had been a bastard, for sure. But it was his quiet genius and his ultimate bravery that had Minerva shedding a tear the next morning.

"Hi," Harry said awkwardly.

"Sorry," she said, trying to stem the tears.

"Don't be," he smiled sadly. "I get it."

"I wish you didn't," she chuckled morosely.

"He was a good man."

"He was," Minerva agreed. "So much more so than anyone will ever know."

"Just the way he'd like it. He never did anything for the glory."

"You are not wrong."

"Do you know what Hermione told him?"

"No," she admitted, thinking back to the bravery Hermione showed. "I assumed you did."

He shook his head and they lapsed into silence.

"Did he pass peacefully?" Minerva wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer if it was no, but it had been plaguing her mind all night.

"Yes," he said quietly. "He looked in my eyes and he drifted off."

"She was a special woman, your mother."

"Will you," Harry paused, looking at her, "will you, sometime, tell me about her?"

"Absolutely," Minerva smiled. "I'll tell you all about her, and Severus too because Merlin knows somebody needs to know about him."

"I'd like that." She smiled and they fell silent again. After a moment, Harry reached over and took her hand, holding it gently through the silence as they both mourned all that they'd won, but most importantly, all that they'd lost.


End file.
